Red and White
by Yarii
Summary: Tsurumaru was always goofing around but had anyone actually seen him blue? Perhaps, Mikazuki Munechika had. Once upon a time, a crane stared at the moon and earned, perhaps, he found what he wanted. "Tell me, what color am I?" Tsurumaru asked.


**Red and White**

Mikazuki Munechika watches Tsurumaru leaves the citadel as he sips his tea by the yard. There is a certain tranquility he feels but it is not bothering him. Mikazuki might have thought that his relationship with Tsuru is the most precious memory he has ever created. Seeing how Tsurumaru takes each step to put distance between them, Mikazuki has a smile plastered on his lips. Once Tsurumaru's figure has disappeared, Mikazuki begins to recall the respect he has shared with Tsurumaru.

"He was red." Mikazuki mutters.

Tsurumaru came back from an expedition and was heavily wounded. It was rare but it was interesting as well for Mikazuki Munechika who was stationed to protect the castle. Mikazuki had always assumed that Tsurumaru had his wild side but he hadn't shown it to anyone…not until when he came back, smeared in red. His appearance piqued Mikazuki's interest.

Mikazuki had been observing Tsurumaru; his behaviors, his features and even the slightest change in his expression. However, Tsurumaru was an actor. He knew how to conceal things which others didn't need to know. Such behavior created a whim within Mikazuki's heart. He wanted to see how far he could change Tsurumaru's expression.

"Tsurumaru." Mikazuki called upon his appearance. Shortly after he had voiced, Tsurumaru seemed to chortle. What he was chortling about, Mikazuki was clueless. Tsurumaru's behavior had planted a strong urge within Mikazuki. Mikazuki was curious and he was going to find out what the cause was.

"I killed them. I killed them all!" Tsurumaru continued to giggle. It was probably from the satisfaction of victory. However, when he reached near Mikazuki, his laughter ceased and he became concerned why Mikazuki was staring at him. If it was purely out of victory, he wouldn't act as if he didn't notice the other's presence.

"What is wrong?" He asked.

"It is rare to see you in red." Mikazuki replied, smiling a little.

"Ah, yes it is. I don't get the pleasure as much as I used to." Tsurumaru responded.

"You need to get yourself treated." Mikazuki reached his hand out to caress Tsurumaru's cheek.

Tsurumaru scoffed as he brought his feet on the floor so that he was standing on the same level as Mikazuki. "Help me out." He smiled.

 _He's hiding something._ Mikazuki realized but he knew he wasn't supposed to ask until the time was ripe. He felt as if he could flip the next page to know more of the crane. Mikazuki could feel the urge surging within as it formed into a strong desire to venture the secrets behind Tsurumaru's mask.

Hence, they moved to an empty room. With the help of Shishio, they had a bucket of clean water and clean cloths ready. Tsurumaru had his clothes lowered to his waist, revealing his wounds which didn't quite match the mood of the bearer.

Mikazuki had the wet cloth in his hand and gently patted it onto the wounds. He tried to be careful with the deep ones but Tsurumaru didn't seem to feel any pain at all. It planted seeds of curiosity within Mikazuki. What was it that made him so strong yet so fragile at the same time? He had realized that Tsurumaru had another side to his masks. When he was alone, he would always ponder and his habitual grin wouldn't be there on his face. Mikazuki who happened to have witnessed it in a certain occasion, thought that it was beautiful.

"Do you know why I am white?" Tsurumaru questioned abruptly.

"Because you like the color white." Mikazuki replied as he finished cleaning the wounds. Mikazuki put the red cloth hanging at the edge of the bucket and took the other white cloth to dip it in water. He proceeded to clean the rest of Tsurumaru's wounds.

"When I'm white, I get colors from the enemies I kill." Tsurumaru began, curving his lips into a solemn smile.

"Get colors from the enemies?" Mikazuki looked amused. "What color do you like, exactly?" He cupped Tsurumaru's chin and tilted his face upwards at him.

"Take a guess." Tsurumaru teased. "I hate white but I like being white."

"Why is that?" Mikazuki continued as he rubbed the cloth on Tsurumaru's cheek gently. "How can you express your liking and dislike at the same time?"

"White doesn't represent me well. It is the color of holiness when I am not. I am a weapon of vengeance. At the same time it is the color of nothingness." Tsurumaru explained jokingly but Mikazuki understood that it was the content of his heart and his soul.

"It is beautiful." Mikazuki smiled. He placed the cloth into the water in the bucket, making the red spread. "And what do you mean by getting colors from the enemies?" He added.

"It makes me feel…alive somehow. I don't really understand it but it makes me feel I am there." Tsurumaru shut his eyes as he took a deep breath. "I want to be something from the nothingness that I am."

Hearing so, Mikazuki came to a realization. It wasn't as if Mikazuki didn't know Tsurumaru's past. He didn't seem to understand the effects inflicted on Tsurumaru. Not to mention, Tsurumaru was pretty well in hiding his actual feelings—or rather, forgetting temporarily of his pain?

In haste, Mikazuki leaned over and took a mouthful of Tsurumaru's lips, kissing him harshly but passionately at the same time. He bit Tsurumaru's lower lip until it bled and Tsurumaru groaned at the tingly pain. After the brawl of passion ended, Tsurumaru gave the questioning look to Mikazuki which Mikazuki understood easily without any justification.

"You said you wanted to be something. Red suits you." Mikazuki moved his thumb over Tsurumaru's lips and made it red with the liquid. "You are red."

Tears seemed to surface on its own, filling up Tsurumaru's golden eyes. The masks he always had seemed to have perished. Tsurumaru knew once he spilled it, he wouldn't be able to stay. It was when he thought he didn't mind it and he cared not for what would happen in the future.

"I… kill for my masters so that they could stay… but they died. I kill to protect them but they still leave." Tsurumaru remarked, chuckling lightly. "And now our master is old and grey. Where do I belong now?"

"Are you leaving?" Mikazuki asked, caressing Tsurumaru's hair. It was as if Mikazuki was reading into Tsurumaru's mind. They understood for they knew how it truly felt. Tsurumaru's situation could have been worse but Mikazuki could relate. Before saniwa was summoned, Mikazuki found himself waiting for no one within the glass among men who couldn't have been his master. Men took interest in his beautiful form but none of them could appreciate or use him by the purpose he was created for. It was the feeling of being abandoned by the time.

"The next time master is going to die, I'll leave first." The curve at Tsurumaru's lips ceased.

"How do you know our master is going to die?" Mikazuki narrowed his eyes, staring at Tsurumaru with a possessive sort of look. He was getting impatient. The emotions and affections he had been boiling within him seemed to reach the peak. He found the secret and it appeared to be the same thing which had kept his own heart empty for centuries.

 _Perhaps we could share the pain._ Mikazuki thought.

"Instincts. I'll have to look for another place where I belong." Tsurumaru said.

"But you will not belong to anyone forever." Mikazuki remarked as he held Tsurumaru's shoulders and pushed him down onto the cold tatami floor. Mikazuki hovered above him and caged him.

"Is that what you think?"

"You belong to me now."

"I'll leave before I become yours." Tsurumaru grinned. His tone sounded prideful but there was no retaliation whatsoever.

"Do you think I'll grant you the leisure?" Mikazuki smirked but there was no hostility. There was the warmth of affections shared between them and it was only theirs to keep.

"Smear me red, Mikazuki. Smear me into something." Tsurumaru reached a hand out to caress the navy hair of his opponent. Gently and tenderly, his porcelain fair fingers slithered down to the face of his new found beloved. Tsurumaru felt accomplished; he felt fulfilled.

"I'll smear you white and red." Mikazuki leaned down to plant a deep kiss.

Exchanging breath, warmth and passion, they felt they had the need to be quick. However, they knew that each step was important for either of them therefore, they still had to proceed steadily.

Planting kisses all over on the beautiful skin of the crane, Mikazuki made roses bloom here and there; painting on the canvas as he willed. His arms held onto Tsurumaru's shoulders, not giving any freedom and completely restraining him with his will and strength.

 _This is the feeling of being owned…this is the feeling of belonging…_ Tsurumaru told himself. It was what he ever wanted. Gratitude fueled within his chest and made him warm. It was warm and comfortable that he savored the every second of it. The moment when he thought of shutting his eyes to enable himself to feel everything that was done to him…

"Look at me." Mikazuki voiced sternly. Releasing his grip, he held Tsurumaru's wrists in one hand, keeping them together perfectly. He knew that Tsurumaru would never retaliate but he also knew this was what he wanted. His other hand roamed to his core. Doing so, Mikazuki had set the flames on.

It wasn't long until Tsurumaru burned with desire to own. He who was owned, wanted to own as well. A word was sufficient. A look was enough. "…Mikazuki."

It was almost magical when they could understand each other well without the need to converse. With their passion as the center, all actions were put to work. Mikazuki gave a look to Tsurumaru and nodded.

Mikazuki released his grip on Tsurumaru's wrists and let his arms circle round his neck. He propped Tsurumaru's legs to his waist and leaned close. Seeing how red Tsurumaru's lips were, Mikazuki gave a peck and a warm smile. As he moved inside, Tsurumaru moaned in pleasure. Slowly but steadily, Mikazuki moved his hips to show Tsurumaru that he was loved and that Mikazuki was already his beloved.

A burst of emotions filled him with joy. Tears flowed down through the corners of Tsurumaru's eyes. He had never felt such content feelings. For centuries, he had been seeking for such connection—relation. He received it and he was surprised how foolish he was and how cruel the time was. Savoring the joy and the moment, Tsurumaru felt alive and felt loved. He knew he wasn't going to lose Mikazuki. He would never have to go through the painful memory again. He smiled as he initiated a soft kiss on Mikazuki's nose. Then… a line of crack surfaced, traveling from his neck to his cheek.

"Love me."

"Tsurumaru…" Mikazuki increased his speed. He wanted every moment to count. He wanted every second to love Tsurumaru the way he wanted it. He hoped he was giving what Tsurumaru required. It was how they spent the night together.

Sun rises and morning is here. Mikazuki has been long awake and he is thinking of getting a nice warm tea to start his day. Getting himself a cup of tea, he realizes that the sakura flowers are falling. It is beautiful and it catches Mikazuki's attention as a fellow esthetician.

"It's another good season." Mikazuki comments as he smiles at the beautiful pink which flutters everywhere. He places himself sitting on the floor as he gazes at the dancing pink. Sipping his tea, he notices white figure approaching.

"Oh, Tsurumaru. Good morning." He greets.

"Good morning." Tsurumaru greets him back, smiling.

"So…are you sure?" Mikazuki asks.

"Yes, I am." Tsurumaru replies, chuckling a little.

"Even though you belong to me?" Mikazuki attempts to tease him although he knows it is not going to work.

"Even though I belong to you." Tsurumaru gives another round of chuckle as he walks his way. "Thank you, Mikazuki Munechika."

Mikazuki is no longer paying attention to the beautiful fluttering sakura but to his beautiful white crane. He still gazes as an esthetician. Tsurumaru is a beauty and will always be his only beauty. His eyes follow every movement Tsurumaru makes, even when Tsurumaru fades and turns into crystals of memories, he keeps his eyes there. Tsurumaru is in his memories.

"Iroha Uta seems perfect to be sung now. Even the blossoming flowers will eventually scatter. Who in our world in unchanging? The deep mountains of karma, we cross them today and we shall not have superficial dreams nor be deluded."


End file.
